


colloquy

by toastyhyun



Series: VIXX GTA!AU [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: GTA AU, Gang AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastyhyun/pseuds/toastyhyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaehwan holds himself much like you would expect anyone heading to a business affair would -- head held high, shoulders back, one hand at his side and the other wrapped around the handle of his briefcase. His suit is jet black from head to toe, primly pressed, and there’s just the slightest of smiles contouring the corners of his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	colloquy

**Author's Note:**

> so! this is my second thingy in my nonlinear vixx gta!au * * if u haven't read enthalpy (the nhyuk one) yet i recommend that...,,, i love gta au so much oh golly i hope everyone else does too
> 
> in other news this is incredibly unbeta-ed and i wrote it at like midnight O:

Jaehwan holds himself much like you would expect anyone heading to a business affair would -- head held high, shoulders back, one hand at his side and the other wrapped around the handle of his briefcase. His suit is jet black from head to toe, primly pressed, and there’s just the slightest of smiles contouring the corners of his mouth.

To any passerby he might simply seem like a darkly dressed CEO, at least... if there were to be anyone around to see him. It’s near pitch black out and the alley he’s in is hidden from streetlights, shrouded fully in the shadows that envelop him and his environment. The only light source is what he steps up to, a door that blends so well into the bricks it’s seemingly a surprise he knew it was there at all.

But Jaehwan is not a CEO, nor a businessman of any proper kind. He is on his way to negotiate, yes, but the instructions he was given are not typical of any ambassador for any other sort of company. (Usually, bosses don’t need to explicitly tell their employees that they don’t want them killing anyone that day.)

He steps through the threshold and shuts the industrial quality, metal door behind him only to find yet another door, this one guarded by one man with way too many tattoos, a distinct lack of any hair anywhere but under his lip, and a rifle held in his arms. He stiffens when he sees Jaehwan and his fingers tighten round the handle and where his other palm rests near the barrel, which raises just slightly in apprehension.

Jaehwan steps forward into where the light actually hits, his chin tipping up and mouth curling into only the most clinical of smiles. It doesn’t take long for Mr. Chrome Dome to recognize him and he fumbles slightly when he does, gun seemingly suddenly unfamiliar in his hands as he juggles with it a bit before it’s lowered properly and he steps aside, leaving the pathway clear for passage. Jaehwan idly wonders if maybe he’s a fan, but pays it no due and simply lets himself in.

There’s even more cue balls scattered around the desk in the middle of the room where their leader is sitting, looking oddly like Mr. Clean, and he has to struggle with himself to not sigh in contempt. He doesn’t know where some crew leaders get their ideas from, but he’s glad Hakyeon hasn’t tried to get them all to start wearing matching sweaters yet. Speaking of---

“I presume you know why I’m here?” He says, eyes flickering over each and every egghead round the desk to count them before he steps forward to the table that’s laid out to him, setting his briefcase down. He adjusts it til it’s perfectly centered, its corners even with the corners of the table itself, handle facing him.

“I thought Hakyeon was supposed to come,” replies the leader, voice displeased through the clearly artificial gruffness he’s trying to pass off. Jaehwan once again has to deliberately not roll his eyes.

“Am I not good enough for you?” Jaehwan pouts, tone mocking, toying with the clasps of his briefcase before he laughs, though there’s nothing much funny about anything that’s been said. “But in all honesty, he couldn’t make it. He has more, ah.. _important_ matters to take care of.”

King Baldie scowls and his head tilts to the side, what little lights stringing down from the high ceiling glinting off his scarily smooth head and glaring directly into one of his own men’s face. It’s overwhelming unimpressive when it takes said man six glints to the eye to stop wincing and making faces and any shred intimidation that Jaehwan may have had left is now completely gone.

“Does he think I’m not important, then?” The man says, his tone raising in volume and decreasing in roughness as his true voice leaks through and he grows dreadfully angry, “Am I not good enough for the oh-so-remarkable Hakyeon?”

Jaehwan isn’t going to take the bait and he simply sighs, flicking up the clamps on his briefcase audibly, “Are we going to talk about deals, here, or are you going to gripe about my friend all night?”

“Your friend,” the man scoffs, head tilting to the side and cracking with the aid of the heel of his own hand in some fashion that’s probably supposed to scare Jaehwan, “I’m not taking any deals with _your friend_. He can rot in hell with none of my coke if he thinks he’s too good to come see me himself to settle terms.”

“You’re going to make me break the rules,” singsongs Jaehwan beneath his breath, fingers drumming along the top of the leather and thumbs pressing into the front, ready to open it as he speaks, tone nearly condescending. “You see, though, here’s the thing -- Cha Hakyeon doesn’t take no for an answer.”

He pushes the briefcase open, and sees one of the guards who has a surprising likeness to Vin Diesel stand on his tiptoes to try and look inside to no avail. The leader speaks up again, getting out a, “No, _you_ listen----”

But Jaehwan is bored, impatient, one hand already wrapped around his semi-auto handgun and his other fingers quick to screw a suppressor onto its end before he’s lifting both arms to pull it out from his briefcase and fire five quick shots, one into each henchman’s forehead before they can react and the last into scary boss man’s hand to keep him from reaching for his own firearm as he strides forward towards the desk.

“Listen, Squidward,” he says, the lilt to his voice gone and replaced with something a little more tired more dreary, the end of his suppressor pressed nearly flush to the other’s temple as he leans forward over the desk with his palm pressed to it, “I don’t want to talk to you any more than you want to talk to me. But I’ve been given express orders to both not leave here without at least a few pounds of coke and a signed agreement and as well not to leave with you dead, and although I am tempted to snap both I really don’t want to break any of my promises tonight.”

“Fuck you,” hisses Emperor Peeled Potato from where he clutches at his hand where it’s missing half a finger and is drenched in blood, rearing his back and headbutting Jaehwan before the latter can properly react.

Vision swarming in red from the sides, Jaehwan fires another bullet into the man’s knee before he presses a foot to the wound and kicks him backwards harshly, sending the chair spinning backwards on its wheels at full force before it hits the back wall. His gun is still raised in one hand, another magazine pulled out and switched in mere seconds before it’s aiming right back at the now howling man, whose injured hand flies to his now injured knee.

He reaches up and runs a finger along his lip where it’s ripped slightly and started to bleed, glancing down only briefly to find a spot on his collar darker than the rest. He laughs yet again, though the sound is even colder now as his nose throbs and is sure to start dripping soon, licking his lips and digging his tongue just briefly into the split to ground himself with its metallic taste.

“You’re really starting to piss me off,” is what he says, free fingers furling and unfurling and knuckles cracking at his side. “I don’t even know your name, Hakyeon never bothered to tell me. I wonder if he actually cared about this deal that much, if he’d actually care if you turned up dead.”

The man’s cheeks are tracked with tears and blood from where he’s tried to wipe them away, crimson painting his previously semi-tidy clothing and now the cement floor beneath him. Jaehwan raises his dress shoe once more and gives the chair another kick, this time knocking it over so melonhead goes clattering over onto the ground with a pitiful whimper.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” Jaehwan’s finger noticeably shifts to the trigger again, “didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s proper manners to reply to someone when they speak to you?”

“T-Take whatever you want,” gasps Scraped Grape, his complexion having paled considerably in the last few moments, “I don’t care, just--- just don’t kill me, please, I’m not worth it.”

Jaehwan pretends to deliberate the thought, index finger tapping at his chin where a bit of blood has started to dribble from his mouth before he shrugs, moving to wipe the liquid with the back of his hand and only smearing it up and along his cheek. He grins, teeth stained red now, “But where would be the fun in that? Besides, Hakyeon wants a _deal_.”

“I don’t have a deal,” the man manages to stutter out, uninjured fingers sifting up and against his slippery smooth head in what was probably a nervous habit he’d had while still having hair, “I’m not the producer, I buy off other people, I just--- thought that Hakyeon would be easy to take down----”

Any traces of Jaehwan’s smile are gone and he groans, exasperated, eyes to the ceiling as they roll, “ _What_ a waste of time.” There’s two more gunshots and then the click of his shoes as he walks back over to his briefcase and closes it, picks it up, and then he’s out the door.

(“What are you--” 

“Listen, kid,” sighs Jaehwan yet again, reaching to lower the muzzle of the rifle just as the doorman raises it, ripping it from his grip and tossing it aside. “That thing has had the safety on since I walked in here. Please, at least _try_ to be good in your next crew.”

Jaehwan’s halfway out the door before he pauses and turns back around, lips twisting into somewhat of a smile, “And please, grow some hair. You look ridiculous,” before he steps back out into the cold, the only thing he hears before the door shuts a small, soft,

“....What do you mean, next crew?”)


End file.
